Friday, May 10, 2013

Breaking Bread

The opening of the doors
in a swing the other way
breaks the smoke
hanging there under
x-ray radiance 
stripping everything
to an embarrassing nakedness
of goods and services
doled out in hopes of 
happy returns t o lines
clanging thee tune
welcomed at any rent party
where we might break bread
or some heads
or maybe
some habits we could do without
like this brand or that staring you down the throat
with a price tag like a ticket
summoning us for some jury duty
and fast cash
ten cents to the dollar,

The opening of the doors
leads another
foray down
the aisles of low return
where I've heard
some Japanese soldiers
still lurk behind
cellar doors
waiting for word
of the descent
of The Emperor's sword.

Saturday, May 4, 2013

After I Knew It All.

The brave face
cracks under the strain
of being gracious
when yet another
pretty girl wanders by
in a dress made of breeze.

What I summon isn't
courage or good manners,
what you see
is cold sweat suppressed
and turned into the foul iron
that runs through the veins.

Should I smile
or going about my business
looking at my watch
as though I am late
for something that awaits.

You were always late for something
arranged weeks in advance,
my scalp
still has the scars of me
scratching my head for hours and months,
wondering where
you were.

I take a photo and change the landscape,
I write a poem and configure impossible probability,
I take my harmonica solos to a blues known only on obscure moons,
all my essays about what I was taught
and what I learned
after I knew it all.

Friday, May 3, 2013

Still I'm Sad



I tire of the day
that glares with
a surfeit of sunshine,
I wary of clouds
that stain my horizon,

The best ideas
are those
that bring you home
to where the table set
and messages await
your reply,

The worst notions
take you to
intersections
where the lights don't work,
gas stations and fast food joints
taunting you
from across the street
with their variations of
instant gas and pain.

I am tired of myself
thinking
so much
about matters
written on napkins
and register receipts.

What is done
has been paid before
and still
I'm sad.